


something precious

by narramin



Category: One Piece
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Law is Bad at Sleeping: round infinite and beyond, M/M, Post-Dressrosa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 19:41:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21674065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narramin/pseuds/narramin
Summary: Law wishes he could sleep too, exhaustion deep in his bones. Wishes his brain wasn’t fucking with him again, keeping him awake in an ungodly hour, and with a sorry excuse like this.
Relationships: Monkey D. Luffy & Trafalgar D. Water Law, Monkey D. Luffy/Trafalgar D. Water Law
Comments: 20
Kudos: 244





	something precious

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shishiswordsman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shishiswordsman/gifts).



> This is a birthday present for Juli, @shishiswordsman, one of the coolest and kindest people I have ever had the fortune to meet. <3 I hope you're having an amazing time and that I'm able to give back some of the joy you spark in me. No dog pics I can provide you unfortunately, but have my small offering of Lawlu feels.
> 
> For everyone else, definitely check out Juli's work! She's one of the most amazing and talended writers I have ever seen, not to mention her also amazing art, so you'd be doing yourself a favour if you do. (And she's got a Paetron, too, if you like it.)
> 
> Thank @marimoes for beta read!

He flinches from his sleep and before he knows why he’s already halfway on his feet, sword in hand ready to—

“It’s just the shutters,” someone groans in the dark, turning to his other side, going by the rustling sheets. “S’just the shutters. Windy season,” and Law realises that it really was just the loud bang that startled him awake; wood clattering on wood. He lets his shoulders fall, and forces a long, shaky exhale, heart still drumming heavy in his chest. 

His right arm throbs along with every beat, hurting like a bitch. No early morning light leaks into the one-room home yet. The air is stale, and stinks with antiseptic and all the men breathing it.

He rubs his face; sees he’s the only one awake in Kyros' hut, the others are still out, including whoever just spoke. Law envies the ability of just passing back out. Everyone is sprawled on surfaces that only vaguely resemble flat (God-ya’s gonna have one hell of a crick in his neck, Law thinks, but he just can’t make himself care enough to shake him awake), and Law’s not surprised that no one else’s truly woke up. They’ve been through a hell of a fight — and then some. 

He wishes he could sleep too, exhaustion deep in his bones. Wishes his brain wasn’t fucking with him again, keeping him awake in an ungodly hour, and with a sorry excuse like this.

A fucking shutter. As if the Tang didn’t like to make her own loud statements at four a.m. in the morning. Law tries to make himself not think about it, and everything that comes with his submarine; the wet dog smell of Bepo’s stale fur or Peng’s swearing when he loses to him in cards, failing spectacularly. 

He looks over to Luffy, instead, another man he can now, for the rest of his life, call his saviour. The second one like that.

This particular saviour of his has got dried snot on his face, and is drooling a small puddle on his pillow right now. He seems to have stirred too, a bit, probably from Law’s own awkward fucking around, but he just groans and doesn’t open his eyes. Law knows he’s a bad man, probably well past beyond salvation by eight hundred different Grand Linian religions, but he knows he's not gonna steal sleep from a man that helped him out. 

Luffy’s kicked the blanket off himself in the heat at some point during the night, and Law can see that he hasn’t bled through any bandages. _Good_ , he thinks, 

(he thinks a lot of things, looking at him)

and heads out to the dawn, closing the door behind himself. The click’s too loud in the quiet and Law makes a face; that’s what one gets for having his dominant arm fucked up like that. The pain is excruciating enough that he knows he wouldn't be able to fall back asleep anyway, even if he was a decent sleeper.

He considers taking another dose of painkillers, but he’s already taken the maximum amount, and then some more. Not to mention the mug of rotgut Roronoa shoved into his hand after taking one look at this face, and that he drank with a shrug, because why the hell not.

He regrets that now, heart still beating too fast.

The air’s cool for a summer dawn, and the grass is soft and slippery as he walks around the house. Sitting crosslegged on the field, he takes some deep breaths trying to calm his pulse. The ground’s cold and wet, dew soaking into his pants. A shiver runs through his body, and he realises that shouldn't have left his hat and coat inside. It’d be funny if he caught a cold after all this, he thinks, and knows he’s not gonna walk back in for them.

Maybe the chill will help to distract him. Or at least he’ll be able to blame the tremor in his hands on it.

He zones out for a while, his thoughts chasing in familiar, rusty circles; a bad machinery, oiled by bone-deep exhaustion and his inability to sleep for more than 4 hours at a time. He thinks of Cora and wonders if he’d be proud of him. He thinks of the smell of his burning coat. Thinks of Lami who’s dead and was on fire the last time Law saw her. Thinks of Luffy and Luffy’s brother who’s miraculously alive and _is_ the fire. 

He doesn’t know what he’s going to do; he didn’t _plan_ to die, per se, but his victory feels unreal. Like he’s looking at it from outside his body. He feels fake, thin, like a cardboard figure of himself, resembling the real one only from an angle and distance.

As much as Doflamingo's destruction was supposed to be only a step to destroy Kaido, somewhere along the way things got jumbled up, turned upside down. It doesn’t seem important or real now. What’s the point of picking a fight with an Emperor? The last thirteen years of his life’s just finally made sense. 

Or he’d like to think so, he tells himself, but it feels odd. Wrong.

He’s like to see his crew though; he’d like that a lot. And maybe—

“‘Oraoh,” Luffy yawns behind his back, and _of course_ Law didn’t hear him approach in the grass, “”hy a’e hou ou’ ‘here?” His yawn is enormous, and he doesn’t even try to slap a hand over his mouth. Law can tell his tonsils are in good condition.

“To be alone,” he says, just to see what Luffy’ll do, and without missing a beat, Luffy says, “Great, I came for that too.” 

Law’s mouth twitches upwards. When has he become so fond of him, he wonders. Luffy is haloed by the early dawn light, features sharpened as he comes and stands in front of him. Law knows Luffy must be exhausted, too, from the circles under his eyes and the early hour, but his look and stance are relaxed and steady.

Unlike Law, he never really seems to be tired. Law can’t even imagine living like that, and he wonders that is must be like; if he could ever be like him, with him, crawl into his skin—

Luffy puts his hand on his face without a word, thumb tracing the bruise on Law’s cheek. It’s warm and dry, palm rough with callouses. It’s the same hand that broke Doflamingo. Quite literally; his final punch shattered his cheekbone and left an ugly, bloody dent on his face. Given how Luffy is, there’s probably still got some of the blood on his knuckles. 

Law leans into the touch, eyes closed with a sigh. His pulse, he notices, has calmed down now. It’s a normal hand, yet Law feels it scorching him from the inside. He could, for that moment, even believe that not his brother, but Luffy himself ate the Mera Mera. 

He doesn’t want to break the moment, but he makes himself say, “Fairy-ya said I was lucky to keep the arm.” His voice comes out as a croak; he took a hard hit on the throat at some point. 

“It wasn’t luck,” Luffy says.

Law snorts. It’s Luffy’s usual brand of strange confidence, that still mostly ends up being right anyway. “Yeah, well, I don’t exactly feel lucky now,” he says, words clumsy. 

He’s not talking about the arm, but he doesn’t know where to start, what he even wants to say. Luffy looks like he understands it, a little. His eyes are clear, warm, and surprisingly hard to read. The usual. He pats Law’s cheek cheerfully and it stings, and Law almost tells him to fuck off 

(he does not want him to fuck off) 

and Luffy hops onto the grass next to him and leans, curls to his side, arm looping around Law. “Wha—” he starts, but Luffy talks over him. 

“It’s cold out here, Torao. You’re shivering,” and it catches Law like a miscalculated a shambles where he smacked himself into a wall. Luffy’s not from the North Blue, and no way he would—, and not with someone like Law anyway.

But Luffy is stuck to him, hugging him in a strange angle, one only possible due to his devil fruit. Bruised skin pressed against bruised skin, with only thin shirts in the way. He’s like a furnace, and Law can’t tell if it’s his metabolism or if he’s just running on a low fever from his injuries. 

Luffy gives a content sigh, chin propped on Law’s good shoulder. He’s looking at the horizon, eyes blinking slowly, falling shut. “There, Torao,” he says, then with his free hand he takes his old, worn strawhat off and pops it on Law’s own head. “You can have this till the morning.” As if it was that simple and easy to trust Law with something so precious. Luffy holds him just a bit tighter, and Law’s throat is suddenly tight, too.

Maybe it’s his mind, but that damn hat really feels warm. 

Law looks down at himself, at the lean, muscled arms looped around him. There’s a twist of skin and...arm, where Luffy’s elbow joint is supposed to be, where his joint still _is,_ technically. It looks unnatural, and is probably horrifying to someone who’s not used to it. Law finds it charming. It feels and looks safe; proof that Luffy’s not easy to break. 

Not that he needs one, anymore.

Law looks at Luffy. Sees the bandages poking from under his shirt, the scabs on his face, and the confidence that’s still radiating from him, half asleep as he is, like rays from the sun.

Law thinks that maybe, just maybe, there is a point in taking down Kaido, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> *clocks gun* Now go check out @shishiswordsman.


End file.
